Lamia
by penpenhooray
Summary: Living Horcruxes were never meant to last long. Two souls were never meant to mingle for long. What happens when the fragment of Voldemort's soul reacts with Harry's as the young wizard reaches his coming of age? With new creature blood flowing through his veins, will Harry be able to complete his quest, or succumb to the monster within? DH!AU
1. Chapter 1

_So I was given the challenge to write a creaturefic Harrymort without Good!Voldie/Bad!Dumbles. I took it a step forward, and I will not be using Ron/Hermione/Weasley!bashing. Hope you enjoy!_

There were very few moments in which the Burrow could ever be considered quiet. The Weasley family was always full of chaos, full of sound, full of life. And honestly, Harry loved it. He preferred the lively chatter of the Weasley household to the sterile silence of the Dursley's.

But at 11:54 on July 30th, the Burrow was probably at its quietest. Everyone was sleeping, recovering from the aftermath of rescuing Harry from the Dursley's, as well as preparing for Bill and Fleur's upcoming wedding. Sure, there was still noise, what with the Weasley men and their penchant for snoring, but it was calming background noise.

Harry was probably the only person still awake, as he sat on the front steps to the house. In his hands, he held a small digital watch (which he may or may not have swiped from Dudley's room, not that the other would notice its absence).

But the digital watch didn't work inside the house (too many wizards and residual magic), but he could watch the display while he was outside. True, Harry probably could have used a clock inside the house (as soon as he found a clock that was actually a clock), but after so many years, Harry had built the habit of counting down the minutes until his birthday.

"Harry?"

Turning his green eyes from the watch, Harry looked up to see Hermione standing in the doorway. In her hands was a mug (and from the smell, Harry could guess it was hot chocolate). "How long have you been out here?"

Harry smiled softly, "About fifteen minutes…" He admitted, because there really wasn't much point in lying to Hermione, "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Do you really think we'd go to sleep without you where you're supposed to be?" From behind Hermione, Ron stepped into view, carrying two mugs, "Who knows what trouble you'd get yourself into?" He smiled tiredly, "Tea, or coco?"

"Coco, please…" Harry chuckled as Ron handed him one of the mugs before taking a seat next to him on the steps.

Hermione took her place on Harry's other side, "So what are you doing out here?"

Harry looked back down at the watch in his hand, taking a drink of coco, "Just counting down the minutes…"

_11:56_

"Do you always insist on doing this alone?" Ron chuckled, sipping his tea.

"Can you imagine the Dursley's staying up with me?" Harry couldn't help but grin, "But at least this time, I get to be with you instead of your owls."

"Yeah, Pig isn't all the great of company."

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the image of Pig at a birthday party. "No, I think I prefer this."

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Hermione got up quickly, setting her coco on the step before heading back into the house. After a minute or so, she returned with two wrapped presents, "Nothing completes a birthday like presents."

A smile spread across Harry's face as he reached for the presents, "What did you get me?"

Ron smacked Harry's hand away, "Hey, it's not your birthday yet, Harry. You've still got—" he looked at the watch, "two minutes."

"Since when did you become a stickler for the rules?"

"Since we don't want to spoil the surprise." Ron chuckled, "This isn't just any birthday, Harry. This is your coming of age." He nudged Harry with his shoulder, "This is the big one…"

"And you deserve to have a proper birthday, especially if we're going to be running around the country for the next few months." Hermione nodded.

The trio fell silent as they reminded themselves of the herculean quest that lay before them.

"We can do this…" Ron murmured, though none of them were sure whether it was an an affirmation, or a question.

"Of course we can." Hermione nodded, "But right now, let's focus on Harry no longer being a minor."

Harry snorted, "You make me sound so young when you say it like that, Hermione."

"Well you are the baby of this group."

"Yeah, well this baby has to stop a homicidal maniac from taking over the world."

"Again."

There was a small chuckle between the three of them, before they settled into comfortable silence. They took sips of their drinks, leaned on each other, and watched as the minutes ticked by.

"Do you want us to do a countdown?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Nah, the watch will do that." Harry smiled softly, watching the glowing digits of the watch.

_11:59:50_

_11:59:51_

_11:59:52_

_11:59:53_

_11:59:54_

_11:59:55_

_11:59:56_

_11:59:57_

_11:59:58_

_11:59:59_

Harry didn't see the watch tick over to midnight. He wasn't even aware that the midnight had even come. Because the moment midnight had struck, Harry's world went black.

—

Ever since his resurrection, the connection between the Dark Lord and Harry Potter's mind had been growing stronger. It had been useful in manipulating Potter into going to the Department of Mysteries. And it was quite amusing to torment Potter with his rage.

But for the entire experience both of them had with the bond, Voldemort had always been in control of what Potter experienced.

So when midnight struck, and the sensation of agonizing pain seared through the Dark Lord, needless to say, it was unexpected.

After the agony came the visions.

_He was in the countryside. Most likely Briton still, knowing Potter__'__s habits. And the ramshackle hut of a house didn't do much to boost his opinion of the setting. Honestly, surely the Order could find better safe houses…_

_But as much as Voldemort could spent hours critiquing the Order__'__s shortcomings, but there focus of his vision required his attention._

_Potter was sprawled on the front steps, with his usual flunkies, the Mudblood and the Blood Traitor, on either side. Both were calling out his name, but the Boy Who Lived was unresponsive, limp in their arms._

_But in an instant, the limp body of Potter began to contort, twisting out of his companions arms with superhuman strength. Limbs were stretching and reforming to the point that parts of his clothing were beginning to rip. Interesting, to say the least. No doubt years of neglect were being forcibly reversed._

_But then Potter__'__s spine began to become more pronounced through his shirt, the bones sharpening and eventually erupting through the shirt as beautiful (if blood-covered) spikes of emerald green. _

_"__Harry!" The Mudblood cried, her eyes wide with shock and horror. The Blood Traitor couldn't speak, but judging by the sickly pallor on his face, he echoed the girl's sentiment._

_There were scales spreading over Potter__'__s body, the same stunning emerald that studded his back: patches down his arms, collaring his neck, and even decorating the hollows of his cheeks. And that was just what was visible, no doubt there was more. As the scales reached Potter's hands, the tips of his fingers began to lengthen, sharpening into razor-like claws._

_But then Potter__'__s eyes opened, wide and unseeing. Voldemort was well aware of the color of Potter's eyes, but he could note the luminescent quality in the moonlight. That, and the fact that Potter's pupils were now nothing more than slivers of black in the glowing green._

_"__Oh sweet Merlin…" The Blood Traitor finally spoke, trying to keep Potter's thrashing to a minimum._

_Up until that moment, Potter had been silence in his violent transformation. No moans of agony, no cries of pain or fear, not even a gasp of shock._

_So when Potter opened his mouth, revealing sharp fangs behind his blood red lips, and let out an inhuman shriek, it was quite unsettling, even to the Dark Lord._

_The shrieks sounded like nothing more than screams of pain and agony at first, drawing the attention of the sleeping inhabitants of the hovel as lights began to flicker to life inside._

_But as the members of the Order made their way to where the trio were located, the shrieks escaping from Potter__'__s mouth because more understandable._

_To Voldemort, at least. The spitting hisses were not meant for the human ear._

_"…__My sssoul…" Potter shrieked, the Parseltongue words laced with pain, "I hunger…my sssoul…"_

Before Voldemort could hear more, or see the Order's reaction to Potter's transformation, the vision ended. The Dark Lord opened his eyes to find that he was still seated in his chair in front of the fireplace in his chambers. Nagini was curled in his lap, in a state of aggitation.

_"__Massster, what isss it?" _His familiar hissed lowly, "_What causssesss you sssuch pain?__"_

_"__Fret not, my dear."_ The Dark Lord allowed his hand to caress Nagini's head, "_It isss jussst the Potter boy. There hasss been an__…__interessting development…"_

_—_

When Harry opened his eyes, his body felt as if he had done ten rounds of "Harry Hunting" with Dudley and his groaned. He should have expected as much from falling asleep on the front steps…

Though when Harry spied the horrified look on both Ron and Hermione's faces, as well as the fact the rest of the Weasley family was up and circled around him, he could guess that there was more to his sore body than sleeping in a poor position.

"Harry…" Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, "You're awake…"

"How long was I out?" Harry blinked. Had he passed out again?

"About a minute and a half, Harry." Hermione nodded, checking the discarded watch.

There was a pause before Harry decided to speak again, "Then why do I have the feeling this isn't an early birthday party?"

Before anyone could answer him, Harry carefully got to his feet. He stumbled slightly, but Ron was quick to reach out and stable Harry by grasping his shoulders. Clutching Ron's arms for support, Harry smiled down at his friend in thanks.

Hold on…

Harry looked down, to see if Ron was standing on a lower step. But no, they were both standing on the same step, and Harry was looking _down_ at Ron.

"How am I taller than you?" Harry whispered.

Ron gave Harry a weak smile, "I think that's the least of your worries, mate."

That was when Harry saw the state of his hands wrapped around Ron's biceps, from the sage green scales to the blood crusted claws. But as soon as Harry could comprehend what he was seeing, the claws shrunk back and the scales dissolved into his skin.

Harry looked back to meet Ron's eyes, "You saw that, right?"

Ron nodded, "It's not just your hands, Harry."

By now, Harry was about to start hyperventilating. He needed to see what had happened to him. Pushing his way past where Fred was standing with the rest of the Weasley family, Harry made his way into the Burrow.

The rest of the Order was making their way from where they were sleeping, and their shocked looks at seeing Harry didn't do much to comfort him. But he was used to strange looks.

Screams, not so much.

Harry had to cover his ears at the sound of Fleur's terrified screams. The Veela was only partially down the staircase, and her usual peaceful beauty was now contorted in absolute horror. Bill wasted no time in rushing to his fiancee's side.

"Fleur, it's just Harry!" Bill grasped the Veela's shoulders tightly.

But the blonde's only response was to hide behind her soon to be husband, "Do no' let 'im 'urt me!" She cried, trembling behind Bill's frame.

Harry shrunk away, trying to hide himself from Fleur's terrified gaze.

"He's not going to hurt you, Fleur. It's Harry!" Ron shook his head, stepping in front of Harry to keep him out of the Veela's view.

"'E iz Lamia!" Fleur shrieked, "'e iz going to eat me!"

Harry could not listen anymore. Bolting from behind Ron, he rushed to the closest washroom to get a good look at his reflection.

He didn't even look like himself.

There were green scales running up his neck and face, his cheekbones were now high and prominent. His hair was no longer an uncontrollable mess, and only now did Harry realize that he was not wearing his glasses, yet maintained perfect vision.

And the green eyes he had received so many comments on were now nearly serpent-like with slitted pupils.

But mere moments after Harry noted his snake-like appearance, the scales and spines disappeared into Harry's now flawless skin, leaving only the perfect, scarless flesh behind.

Not even Harry's scar on his forehead remained.

"What the hell is wrong with me…" Harry whispered, looking up in his reflection to where Ron and Hermione were standing behind him. "What the hell is a Lamia?"

Neither could answer him. Hermione shook her head slowly in defeat. "I don't know Harry…"

_Well, there's the first chapter! Let me know what you think, and what you think should happen to Ron and Hermione!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey everyone, thanks for being so patient. I've been ill for the past week or so, so it took me a while to get this chapter completed. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

It took Bill nearly an hour to calm down Fleur enough that she stopped screaming. As is was, the couple were still in their bedroom as Bill tried to talk to Fleur more.

The rest of the Order was still downstairs, trying to recover from the aftermath midnight had brought.

"What the hell is a lamia…" Harry repeated, more to himself than as an actual question.

"…I think I might know…" It was Arthur who had answered, the Weasley patriarch clearing his throat as all eyes turned to him, "I think I might have read about them once in one of my books at Hogwarts, I'll have to check…"

As Arthur made his way up to the Burrow's attic, the rest of the group made their way to follow him. It would take all the extra hands they could get in order to go through the clutter of the attic.

"Do you know what book we're looking for, Arthur?" Remus asked, opening boxes of books to rummage through.

Arthur was looking through a box of his own, "It's _The Magical Fauna Bestiary: Volume 1 A-L._ It'll be a dark gray leather book…or it might be blue…"

And so the group began their search for the illusive book. And given how much stuff the Weasley family had managed to collect and horde over the years, that was no small feat.

Harry was desperately blinking sleep from his eyes when a triumphant cry came from Hermione, "Found it!" She smiled tiredly, pulling the thick textbook from its resting place.

As she flipped to the book's index to find the correct page, Harry made his way to her side. He desperately hoped that perhaps everyone was mistaken, and that his circumstances were simply a fluke or an accident.

"Here it is, Lamia." Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the page. _"Lamia. Class: Humanoid. Sentience: Sentient. Ministry of Magic Classification: XXXXX, Known Wizard Killer."_

Harry closed his eyes. This could only get worse…

_"__Lamias originated from Greece, a distant relative of the Merfolk of the region, though Lamias developed into land based beast. While Merfolk are fish-based creatures, the Lamia is akin to a serpent."_

"I kinda figured that…" Harry murmured. Ron reached out and rested his hand on Harry's shoulder as Hermione continued to read."

_"__Also unlike Merfolk, Lamias are natural predators, who lure their prey through a beguiling mask of beauty and charm, before devouring their hearts and souls. Lamias were designated XXXXX by the Ministry of Magic not because of mindless savagery, but from their deadly control over their powers and their victims, which ranged from children to young men and women. To the human eye, even a trained wizard, a Lamia appears to be completely human, albeit a beautiful one. It is only before they strike, or if the Lamia so chooses so, that their true form can be seen._

_"__It was only after one Jonathan Keats survived a Lamia attack as a child that the brutal existence of Lamias became common knowledge—_ Wait, Keats?" Hermione paused, looking up from the book, "John Keats? The poet?"

Harry recognized the name John Keats. But given that his knowledge of Muggle poetry was limited to what education he received while with the Dursley's, all Harry knew that John Keats _was_ a poet, just not when or any of his works.

Hermione, obviously, knew more about the topic, "I'm such an _idiot!__"_

"Wow, never thought I'd hear Hermione say that." Fred chuckled, elbowing George as the two shared a chuckle…before their mother hushed them.

Hermione shook her head, "Keats wrote a poem called _Lamia, _I can't believe I didn't remember—"

"That you didn't remember an obscure poem written by a Muggle poet?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Not a Muggle, Harry." Hermione smiled softly, "Just a short-lived wizard."

"Actually, not so short-lived, Hermione." It was Arthur who spoke this time, "Mister Keats faked his Muggle death…wizards don't die of Tuberculosis."

Harry blinked, "Why would he fake his death?"

"To hunt Lamia." Hermione was looking at the text once more, "'_—__Keats dedicated his life to hunting down Lamias. He, along with his associates, continued to hunt down all traces of Lamias until the last reported Lamia slaying in 1852._

_"'__Lamia's were officially classified Extinct by the Ministry of Magic in 1853.'"_

There was silence that settled over the room as Hermione finished the article, though no doubt the thoughts that churned through everyone's minds was a near audible phenomena.

Harry shook his head, "…How can I be a man-eating snake demon that's been extinct since before Dumbledore was born?"

No one had an answer to that question.

"I don't understand how no one seems to know about Lamias if they were such dangerous beasts." Ron wrinkled his nose, "Wouldn't that have been covered in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"It might have been…in 1800." Arthur replied, "_The Magical Fauna Bestiary _was the main textbook for Care of Magical Creatures back in the day. It wasn't replaced by _Magical Beasts and Where to Find them_ until sometime after I graduated Hogwarts."

"Then shouldn't Remus know about them too?" Harry turned to look at Remus, "Didn't you have that textbook at some point?"

Remus nodded weakly, "I never came across Lamia in that book…"

Arthur sighed, "That's because _Magical Fauna Bestiary _went through editing and downsizing during the 50's. A massive two volume set was too cumbersome for Hogwarts students, so it was rewritten with more up-to-date information. Rare monsters weren't included, let alone extinct ones."

Hermione frowned, "Then why did you have the older…" She trailed off, not bothering to finish her own question as she already knew the answer.

Hand-me-downs.

The Weasley patriarch shrugged, "I probably wouldn't have even remembered having those if I hadn't been teased—"

"—for having older books." Ron finished, looking at his father.

Harry was reminded again, of just how little the Weasley had lived on in the past. To him, they had always seemed so rich…even if not monetarily.

But Hermione was not satisfied, "They why did Fleur know what a Lamia was, let alone recognize Harry as having the markings of one?"

"Because," Bill's voice wafted from the stairwell as he entered the attic, "Veela and Lamia do not get along, apparently. From what she said, Lamias are the natural predator of Veela. Bird-like seducers against snake-like seducers. Those child victims of Lamia you read about," he nodded to the book in Hermione's hands, "Were often Veela children. Fleur said her grandmother lost a few sisters and cousins to Lamia."

Harry shook his head, trying to keep his heart from racing out of control, "This can't be right. I can't be a Lamia. None of this makes sense. I do _not_ want to eat hearts or souls, from anyone, Veela or human. I'm about as seductive as a tree branch—"

"—if that tree branch happened to be shaped into the new _Firebolt_ going on pre-sale before the British and Irish Quidditch League try-outs."

Harry, as well as everyone else in the room, turned their shocked expressions towards Ron, who had both hands over his mouth and an impressive shade of crimson over his face and ears. "I can't believe I just said that…" He muttered, somewhat muffled by his hands.

"Neither can we—"

"—though you took the words right out of our mouth."

Harry turned to glare at the twins, "Don't you two start, I'm not in the mood for jokes."

George (at least now Harry could tell the difference, now that George had one less ear) shrugged, "Not exactly a joke. You're not exactly my type, but we're not blind."

Harry buried his head in his hands, "I haven't changed that much…it was just the scales…"

"Harry, you grew over a foot." Fred snorted.

"And you don't need those glasses anymore."

"You're not so twiggy."

"Come to think about it, you've developed quite the nice—"

"That's enough!" Molly Weasley had more than her fill of jokes at Harry's expense (even if they were more compliments than anything else), "Honestly, it's the middle of the night, we won't be able to do anything productive without a bit of sleep. We should all be getting back to bed."

There was something about Molly Weasley that, when she told one to do something, it was generally a good idea to do it with as little resistance as possible, if any.

And so the attic was slowly emptied of people as they made their way back down to their rooms and to their beds. Bill hadn't needed any convincing, eager to return to his fiancee's side. Others were simply to tired to argue, with Tonks nearly falling asleep on Remus's shoulder and Charlie already asleep under an old broken desk stored in the attic's clutter.

As Harry made his way to the stairs, Molly grabbed his arm, turning him to face her.

"Harry dear," She began, "I know this is not the best start for your big day…" She took a deep breath, squeezing his arms gently, "But no matter what is happening right now, and no matter what you look like, or if you have scales and fangs, you will always be our Harry."

They were simple words, spoken from a simple woman who had the simple wish to love and protect her family. But to Harry, those simple words, powered by that simple wish, were worth more than any bought of magic could ever hope to achieve, "Thank you Mrs. Weasley." He smiled softly.

She smiled in return, "Now come on and bend down, I can't reach you anymore."

Harry chuckled, bending slightly so Molly could press a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Good, now go back to bed. And actually sleep this time, young man."

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

And so Harry made his way down the attic steps, where he only had take a few short steps before he was at the door to Ron's bedroom. To his surprise, he actually bumped his head on the low door frame as he entered.

Ron chuckled, following behind Harry "Welcome to my world, Harry. Misery loves company."

The two quietly got settled into their beds (or rather, Ron in his bed, Harry in his small mat on the floor). It was only when both were laying down, blankets wrapped around them, that Harry finally spoke.

"Do you really want to ride me like a broom?"

Ron sighed, "Harry, I can definitely appreciate you're a fine-looking bloke, as well as everything Fred and George said. But if you're afraid I'm going to jump you in the middle of the night, I've got about as much urge to grope you as I do Fleur: I can appreciate the sight, but I don't exactly want to touch."

"Well Bill would kill you if you tried."

"Don't worry, I stopped wanting to try back in fourth year."

Harry stared up at the ceiling, still trying to process everything he had learned, "…why do you think I became a Lamia?"

"Who knows?" Ron yawned, moving his arms behind his head, "Maybe it's a side effect of you being a Parselmouth, or maybe _that_ is the power "the Dark Lord knows not" or something."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Since when has anything we've done made sense?"

Harry smiled, a genuine one at that, "How can you be so at ease?"

"Because it's like three in the morning and my brain can't function enough to panic." Ron turned his head towards Harry, "And I'm done freaking out at you for every little curve ball life likes to throw at you. Lamia or not, you're still my best friend…though if you try and seduce me to eat my heart, I will be royally pissed at you."

"I would be to." Harry chuckled, feeling at peace since the first time since his birthday began. As he closed his eyes, Harry couldn't help but think that, maybe, things wouldn't be so bad…

* * *

_My sssoul__…__I hunger…my sssoul…_

_Harry could see his dream self standing, his bare feet pressed against cold tile. It was the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, he realized, and he was naked. Though his dream self didn__'__t seem to mind, as he walked though the Ministry atrium with a grace Harry had never attributed to himself before._

_There were other people in the dream, Ministry workers going about their day, although none of them paid any mind. In fact, it was as if none of them even say the naked young man making his way through their ranks._

_The only time someone did pay any mind, Harry noticed, was when his dream self would speak to them. His dream self would always whisper in their ear, Harry could never tell what exactly, but the next moment, the poor soul would be all too eager to help his dream self to his destination._

_Harry had to keep up with his dream self as they made through the various hallways of the Ministry. He had no clue where in the Ministry they were, considering Harry__'__s limited (not to mention poor) experiences with the government building. But apparently his dream self knew exactly where he was going._

_There was a door. His dream self stopped in front of the door, then turned, looking directly at Harry._

_Harry blinked, slightly unnerved at being stared down by himself. It made Harry feel as if he were the one naked in the dream (even if he technically was)._

_His dream self didn__'__t seem to have time for Harry's nerves, instead pointing a tapered finger at a strange fixture in the middle of the door._

_"__Oh god…that's Moody's eye…" Harry's jaw dropped slightly. Then his eyes traveled to where his dream self was now pointing._

**_Delores Umbridge  
Undersecretary to Minister Thicknesse  
Head of the Muggle-Born Registration_**

_"__Not her again…" Harry shook his head, "But wait, Scrimgeour is Minister."_

_His dream self simply shook his head before opening the door and entering the office. Harry had to move quickly to enter the office behind his dream self, despite every fiber in his being telling him to go anywhere but in that office._

_Umbridge__'__s office was very much like the monstrosity it had been at Hogwarts, pink and kitten decorations in all. The woman (if one could call her that) was sitting at her desk, quill writing at rapid speed._

_"__Shame it's not her special quill…"_

_The dream self gave Harry a little smirk as he made his way towards the desk. As the dream self made his way behind the desk to stand behind Umbridge, Harry was able to spy the small desk calendar beside Umbridge__'__s name plaque._

**_Aug 1_**

_"__August first? But that's tomorrow…" Harry muttered as he turned his gaze from the calendar to his dream self, only to pale in horror._

_His dream self was no longer the graceful being that had been walking through the Ministry of Magic. Where long naked legs had been was now a single tail, covered in green scales, twisting and turning around Umbridge and the office floor. Umbridge was squirming under the power of being crushed by the emerald tail. As she squirmed, she was also choking, as Harry__'__s dream self was pulling tight on a chain around her neck. _

_Harry was so horrified to see his own hands covered in scales and claws, it took him a moment to realize just was was on the other end of the chain._

_"__The locket…" Harry whispered, horrified._

_The dream self laughed, his previously plump red lips now nothing but slips of flesh that hid rows of razor sharp teeth. With one claw, he caressed the locket, gently following the contours of he engraved __'__S'. A toothy grin split across the dream self's face, his eyes gleaming with something evil._

_"__Bessst not wassste time, then."_

* * *

"Harry!"

Harry opened his eyes, only to squint again in the face of the bright sunlight. It took Harry a few moments of blinking to realize that he was not in Ron's room. In fact, he wasn't even in the Burrow at all; instead, he was standing in the middle of a field, barefoot and still in his outgrown clothes.

Looking behind him, Harry could see both Ron and Hermione, both in their own pajamas.

"What…" Harry trailed off, "Was I sleep walking?"

Hermione nodded, "We've been calling your name for ages, Harry."

"You walked nearly a mile, barefoot." Ron shook his head, "We tried to stop you, but…you're _strong.__"_

"Why didn't you hex me?" Harry took a shuddering breath, sinking to his knees.

Hermione was at his side in an instant, "We didn't have time to grab our wands, we were trying to keep up with you…" Ron nodded in agreement, looking around cautiously.

The three of them remained in silence for quite some time, trying to piece together what had happened. Then Harry remembered his dream, "I know where the locket is."

"What?"

"The locket." Harry nodded, "I had a dream, and I saw where the locket was."

"Where?"

"Umbridge has it."

At this, both Ron and Hermione paused. "Are you sure, mate?" Ron asked, wary, "I don't want sound cynical or anything, but dreams and you haven't exactly gotten along well in the past…"

"What Ron means, Harry." Hermione sighed, "Is are you sure?"

Harry nodded, "Absolutely sure, this had nothing to do with my visions from…well, you know. This was completely different. I saw myself _lead_ me to the locket." _And turn into an evil snake monster that was killing Umbridge__… _"There's something else."

"Other than the fact that we're going to have to storm the Ministry of Magic and deal with Umbridge to get the locket back?" Ron raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yeah. In my…vision, dream, whatever… Thicknesse was the Minister of Magic, not Scimgeour." Harry shook his head, "The Deatheaters are going to take over the Ministry…and if it hasn't happened already, then it's going to happen tomorrow."

Both Ron and Hermione paled.

"Bloody hell…" Ron shook his head, "That would be our luck…"

Hermione sighed, "So do we go before, or after the coup?"

Harry blinked, "You believe me?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Ron shook his head, "We can't pretend this is the strangest thing we've faced. And it's not like we have any other leads towards finding the locket." He chuckled, "Though I don't think Bill is going to like us missing the wedding."

"Well I'm pretty sure I got uninvited, considering the fact the bride thinks I'm going to eat her."

"True." Hermione smiled softly, ruffling Harry's hair, "I guess we have work to do."

* * *

_There you go! Chapter two~ Honestly, I couldn't help myself when it came to Keats, so I used the classical literature to play on things a little. And now the plot thickens! If you have any ideas of what you'd like to see (I'm still trying to figure out Ron's fate, as well as other pairings), let me know!_


End file.
